


Once Upon a Cuppa

by macpetreshock



Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston Fandom, Tom Hiddleston RPF, tom hiddleston - RPF
Genre: Actor Tom Hiddleston, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Bad Flirting, Bromance, Chris Hemsworth - Freeform, Complicated Relationships, Dating, Difficult Decisions, Drama, Drama & Romance, Drinking, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friendship, Hiddlesworth, Honesty, Humor, Kissing, Long-Distance Relationship, Love, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, RPF, Realistic, Romance, Truth, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-24 17:37:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6161233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macpetreshock/pseuds/macpetreshock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He just wanted a cup of Earl Grey. She just wanted to do her job. He wasn't looking for a relationship. She wasn't interested. A believer in romance and true love, Tom always thought there would be a little more 'once upon a time' and less 'no' at every turn, but if he's determined not to face heartbreak again, he has to face reality...</p><p>Love stories aren't always fit for Disney. Every rough start isn't a sign you're on the wrong road.</p><p>(Author Note, May 17, 2018: I haven't forgotten this story, given up writing it, or anything of that nature. Due to my divorce 2 years ago, I've been crazy busy as a single, working mom, and I started going to school to earn my business degree. In what *nonexistent* free time that I have, I'm planning to continue working on some of my fics, which one(s) I focus on will really depend on reader feedback!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If there's an interest in the premise for this, I'll continue it, but since I already have "What to Expect When You're Unsuspecting" and "Hours to Infinities" in the works as well as my regular work, please let me know if you're interested in more.
> 
> Thanks!
> 
> -Mel

They’d reached the last stage of filming Thor: Ragnorok, studio filming in Atlanta, Georgia after spending the past three months in Australia. If all went smoothly, in another six weeks, the cast could enjoy a wrap party and finally head home.

For now, Tom Hiddleston, aka Loki, just wanted a taste of home, a simple cup of Earl Grey, which he wasn’t finding among the catering company’s fine selection of teas on the beverage table today. The past three days it hadn’t been a problem, but it seemed his luck had run out, or at least the supply of his favorite tea had run out.

“Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Hiddleston?” asked a young catering assistant who looked like he’d barely graduated high school, probably working his way through college by Tom’s best guess.

“Just looking for the Earl Grey, but if you haven’t any, that’s fine. I’ll make do.” There were plenty of other options, no point in making more trouble of it than necessary. He didn’t want to gain a reputation as one of _those_ actors on set.

“Oh, it’s no problem. If you can give me about ten minutes to finish this, I’ll go see if Ricki has any more on the truck.” He was busy trying to set up the tables before the lunch rush, and seemed a bit harried just as a college-age girl came in, blushing at Tom before whispering something to the boy. “God, Kim, I don’t wanna hear your excuses, just help get this done, and explain to Ricki why you’re late. Again.”

Tom sighed, watching the two of them. He had planned to take a short walk outside during the break before his next scene anyway, and they had their hands full. It couldn’t hurt to go see for himself if this Ricki person had more Earl Grey in stock. He knew exactly what truck the young man was referring to, something akin to an upscale, enclosed food truck parked outside the studio, white with the Goer-met Catering ‘Gourmet On the Go’ logo on the sides.

Sure enough, he found it with a side door propped wide open and a set of steps in place to climb in, but as he neared Tom was a little surprised by the sound of dance music coming from inside. Poking his head in the door to check it out before climbing the steps, Tom’s breath hitched at the sight of Ricki.

Ricki wasn’t a man as he’d expected but rather a curvaceous brunette in form-fitting dark wash jeans and a black Goer-met Catering tee. However, it wasn’t what she wore that caught Tom’s attention or his breath. Working in the fully functional mobile kitchen, preparing additional foods for the cast and crew’s lunch, Rick danced to the music playing, not seeming to give a single care in the world that anyone could possibly walk in at any moment. Licking and biting his bottom lip, breathing heavier than he had been just two minutes before, Tom realized how voyeuristic he was being, but the woman moved shamelessly with her own version of ‘snake hips’ he found incredibly mesmerizing.

Finally, he pulled himself together, considering he should likely make his presence known before she caught him watching her or someone spotted him literally being a peeping Tom. Climbing the few steps, he stood just inside the door and cleared his throat, not really wanting to interrupt her continuing on dancing to the next song. But Ricki heard him and turned to the door, a friendly smile on her face.

“Hey there, Mr. Hiddleston. Something I can do for you?” she asked casually, seemingly unbothered by the fact he’d walked in on her dancing, or that he was dressed in full Loki costume and makeup, or even the slightest bit fazed by one of the film’s ‘stars’ standing barely six feet from her.

For all these reasons, Tom grinned like a damned idiot, cursing how slowly he responded. “Um… please just, uh, call me Tom.”

“Okay… Tom, can I help you?”

_We should go dancing sometime, have a few drinks. Would you like to go for coffee with me? May I take you to dinner? Could I get your number?_

“I was looking for Earl Grey. There’s no more inside, and one of your staff said you might have more out here.”

Her eyes widened, lips setting into a straight, narrow line as she took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry they sent you out here instead of coming to check for you. I’ll speak to them about that right away. It was completely uncalled for and very unprofessional of them.”

“No. No. No.” Tom stepped forward, waving dismissively. “That’s alright. He offered, but I was coming outside anyway and decided to just pop in and check. Really, it’s all on me.”

Despite appearing skeptical, she nodded. “Well, I’m sorry, but we’re out of stock until tomorrow. The delivery truck didn’t arrive as expected, so several us went out to locations today short on a few supplies… Although…” Ricki walked toward Tom, gesturing to allow her past, but he didn’t take the hint. He did take note that her eyes were an unusually pale blue, complementing her fair skin, and when she was right beside him, he could smell strawberries in her hair. “If you’d let me get to my purse, I have an emergency stash of Earl Grey. You’re in luck that it’s my favorite, so I tend to keep a Ziploc bag with some.”

“Oh.” Slightly disappointed by the need to move away, he gave her passage to the other end of the truck, watching as she reached her purse off an upper shelf and too-quickly, was handing him two teabags.

“An extra for later. I’ll be here till six if you need more. We should be restocked tomorrow.” Ricki smiled politely, seemingly satisfied their conversation had reached a conclusion. “I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr… Tom.”

“No need to be sorry. It’s fine… Not a problem.” Tom couldn’t think of the last time he’d had so much difficulty keeping his eyes from wandering while speaking to a woman or felt his interest quite so piqued.

_Are you seeing anyone? Do you play tennis? What kind of books do you like? How did you get into the catering business? Have you always enjoyed cooking?_

Completely distracted, Tom didn’t even notice Chris join him as he stood drinking his tea, mind still outside at the catering truck. “Hey, mate, you asleep in there?” Chris snapped his fingers in Tom’s face, startling him and gaining his attention. “Been talking five minutes with you spaced out. What’s wrong with you?”

“Have you seen the catering company’s manager?”

Chris immediately looked toward the tables, but only saw the college kids working. “No.” Just then, Ricki walked in the side door with a tray of something, setting it on a table. “Oh… Damn… If that’s who just walked in, then yes. Yes. Yes, I have…and I think we need to go see what there is to eat.”

“Chris,” Tom said in a low warning. “Don’t do it. I’m not chatting up anyone working on set and making things awkward if she’s not interested. It’s unprofessional.”

“Of course she’s interested.” The Aussie clapped his friend on the shoulder encouragingly. “You’re a great guy. What’s not to like?”

“I don’t know exactly, but she seemed less than interested when I met her.”

“Nah, I’m sure you’re imagining things. Flirt, have a few dates while we’re here, no big deal. You’re both professional adults, right?” Chris prodded Tom along, ever insisting his friend needed to date more… and dating at all would be a good start. “I’m saying ask her out to dinner, not propose marriage, mate. Even you can handle that.”

But Tom wasn’t so convinced. One dinner date leads to two… five… ten… texts and phone calls, stolen kisses during breaks on set. Then filming wraps, and he’s off to home in London with thousands of miles and an ocean between them. Saying it’s nothing serious, merely casual dating is all well and good, but some people fall too easily, too hard, too fast, and recovering is never quite so simple.

Tom knew he fell into that category, perhaps believing a bit too much in the romance and true love he wanted to find. Better to keep his distance than suffer a broken heart repeatedly.

“Yeah. Maybe… Oh, I almost forgot I’m supposed to check in with makeup for some touch ups before my next scene,” he lied. “Better run. I’ll catch you later.”

Chris watched Tom run away from yet another opportunity, determined to set the adopted Hemsworth straight finally. A relationship wouldn’t kill him.

Left standing alone, the blond clapped his hands together, a devilish grin on his face, and headed toward the food service tables, glad to see Ricki was still there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm giving two chapters for you to judge level of interest. Please comment with feedback. Thanks!

To Tom, Chris’s hearty laughter coming from the direction of the food service tables couldn’t mean anything good. He’d hoped his friend would’ve let their conversation from the previous day go on without another thought, but he knew that was wishful thinking.

_Approach with caution._ Seeing Chris chatting away and laughing with Ricki set off a million warning bells in Tom’s head.

“Tom, you gotta try these banana nut muffins Ricki made. They’re amazing… This cream cheese filling is just…” He stuffed the rest of it in his mouth, sounding nearly sexual in his satisfaction as she looked on and snickered.

“Good morning, Tom.” Ricki greeted him with a polite smile when he approached, nothing cold, yet nothing overly friendly about it either. “The tea selection is restocked to suit your preference today. Dan, Goer-met’s owner sends his apologies for any inconvenience yesterday.”

“I appreciate that, but I said it was fine, no trouble at all,” Tom replied, trying to keep his voice light. Her professional attitude toward him equated to keeping him at arm’s length as best he could tell.

“Ricki…” Chris eyed her with a knowing grin and a wink. “Didn’t I say we’re all friends here, no need to be like that… too formal. Relax.”

“Alright, alright, Chris. Whatever you say.” She conceded to the Aussie, but Tom didn’t miss the wary glance given his direction first. “Friends… Sure.”

Tom worried that perhaps his friend’s friendly overtures to gain Ricki’s interest in Tom may have backfired into an interest in Chris instead. “How’s Elsa?” he inquired casually, hoping to remind Ricki of Chris’s unavailability.

“Good. She’s doing good but busy. Has her hands full with the kids… I was telling Ricki about them coming next week. Promised to introduce her to Elsa. Oh, you know what…” He watched Chris’s face light up as if he just came up with a brilliant idea Tom had a feeling was part of a preconceived plot against him. “The four of us should have dinner together… Elsa and me, Ricki and you… It’d be great fun.”

“I’d love to.” Blushing, Tom picked up a muffin, wishing he’d been somewhat less enthusiastic in his reaction until _after_ Ricki said something, anything about the idea.

“Um, maybe.” She focused on organizing items on the table, though nothing was amiss. “I’ll have to check my schedule.”

“If you’d rather, maybe you and Tom should go out, get to know each other first,” Chris suggested innocently, as if the idea never crossed his mind before. “Then you wouldn’t be overwhelmed by all three of us at once. Tom’s a nice guy, would make you feel more comfortable.”

Tom wanted the floor to open up and swallow him right there but dared a glance at Ricki to see her blushing absolutely crimson, eyes wide in surprise. “Uh… I have to get some stuff off the truck,” she said quickly, making a hasty retreat.

“That wasn’t a no. Go after her, and ask her out yourself. I did all the hard work to pave the way.”

“I didn’t need your help, thank you very much.” But after hesitating a minute, he followed the path she took to the truck, finding her standing in the middle of its kitchen, facing away from the door, unmoving. “I’m not disturbing you, am I?”

She jumped into action, searching cabinets, pulling out a few things here and there, seeming quite busy. “Not really. I was just thinking.”

“You weren’t possibly thinking Chris’s idea isn’t all that terrible by any chance, were you?” Taking a deep breath, he stepped further from the door, catching her eye, and stopped moving when she did. “I’m only asking because I thought, if you weren’t opposed, perhaps we could grab dinner tonight since I’ll finish earlier than the rest of the week.”

“I don’t know about tonight.”

Their eyes were locked, and her reply came out as if it were a challenge, a challenge to make a suitable offer, a challenge Tom wanted to meet for pride’s sake if nothing else.

“Drinks tomorrow?”

She shook her head. “I don’t go out drinking when I have to work the next morning, and Friday’s an early morning for me.”

Tom considered walking away with a shred of dignity before potentially pushing it too far and making an absolute fool of himself, but hoping third time’s a charm, he asked once more. “Friday then… Late dinner, drinks, wherever you’d like to go, whatever you’d like to do. I won’t be due back on set until Monday morning and have no other plans, so I’m all yours for the weekend.”

Ricki looked away, grinning. “Yeah… all mine. Sure.”

“Oh, god, I didn’t mean…” Tom blushed furiously. “I just meant… Not that, but you know, if we could… I really was not insinuating—”

“I never assumed you were or that you even would.” Her sharp tone cut Tom short.

“Of course not…” He stared at his feet as he spoke. “But if things go well Friday, perhaps we could make additional plans for the weekend… if you’d like.”

“Let’s just see how Friday goes and not get ahead of ourselves.”

Tom couldn’t quite tell how interested in him Ricki actually was, but she didn’t reject him the way he thought she would, all things considered. Saying goodbyes until later felt more than a tad awkward. He wanted to give her a quick kiss on the cheek, a friendly gesture, nothing too intimate, but something he felt appropriate for a woman with whom he had a date; however, she’d gone back to busying herself with work, casually saying she’d see him later without even looking at him.

“Well, I hope you’re satisfied, Chris. I possibly either wore her down or she felt pity for me, but we’re going out Friday… unless she changes her mind before then, which I believe is completely within the realm of possibilities.”

“C’mon, you’re Tom Hiddleston. You’ve got more fans than the Pope, starting with this guy right here.” Chris pointed both thumbs at himself, a dopey grin on his face. “I’m a married man, but I’d date ya.”

Raising a brow at his friend, Tom shook his head. “I don’t even know how to respond to that… flattered or concerned.”

“You know you’re flattered. I’m hot. You know you wanna piece of this, baby,” Chris teased, running his hands over his chest provocatively and giving an exaggerated wink.

Tom just shook his head, laughing until he heard a giggle behind them and turned to spot Ricki arranging bowls of fruit on a table, clearly having overheard them. “Maybe you should have asked him out. Sounds like he’s game.”

“Perhaps,” he replied, taking her joking manner as a good sign and strode to the food service area in hopes of striking up a conversation. “But he is married, and I’m not that kind of man.”

“Not gay, not bisexual, or not a _cheater_?” she asked bluntly.

“Not any of those.” That well-known Hiddles smile spread across his face. “If that’s what the problem is, don’t worry. I’m not off and about asking other women on dates as well, just you… Not saying I’m asking for some sort of commitment or anything, but if we hit it off then, well, you’d be the only woman I’d spend my free time with while I’m here.”

“Ah… I suppose monogamy in your worldwide conquests does say something, though I’m not exactly sure what.”

“Wait. You think I have…” Tom was dumbfounded. “I’m not that sort with the ‘girl in every port’ so-to-speak. To be honest, this is unusual for me.” A part of him wanted to be indignantly offended and storm off, but mostly, he felt absolutely resolved to prove her wrong, prove he was above that sort of behavior. “Give me a fair chance, and you’ll see. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to ask that much if you have the audacity to pass judgment on me.”

She stood studying his face silently as if expecting the truth to present itself in neon signs. Liar. Cheater. Bastard. Cad. Perhaps worse. Finally, her expression softened just the slightest. “Fine. That’s not unreasonable… And Chris does vouch for you as a nice guy.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it seems there is an interest in this story so far, I wrote a third chapter. I happen to really like this whole story idea and have a lot of notes written for it, an overall plan for its arc, so as long as there are readers, I'll keep writing on it.
> 
> Thank you very much for the comments and feedback left on the first two chapters. I hope to continue hearing from you all! :-)

Tom had a grand plan of dinner then heading to the hotel and crashing early for the night, but somehow, plans changed when Chris decided he wasn’t tired and wanted to see if Atlanta had any night life worth mentioning on a Wednesday. And so it happened that they were sitting at the bar of a north Atlanta Latin-style dance club, which was relatively crowded for ten o’clock at night in the middle of the week.

“Vodka tonic with lime, Grey Goose, please,” he ordered as the bartender came over, his partner-in-crime selecting one of the domestic beers on draught. “Is there a particular reason none of the clubs closer to the hotel were good enough for this little excursion?”

“I heard someone mention it on set today and thought it sounded interesting. Couldn’t hurt to see what all the fuss was about.” Something in the Aussie’s expression said it should not be taken at face value. “What’s it matter? Good booze, good music, and good-lookin’ ladies… Seems worthwhile, mate.”

“And here I thought you had a one-track mind to set me up with Ricki.” Chris’s nonchalant shrug and smirk concerned his friend, leaving him wondering what exactly he’d signed up for by agreeing to this outing. But he politely thanked the bartender when he received his drink, and tried not to think much of it, focusing on the vodka instead.

“Looks like the entertainment might get even more interesting,” Chris commented, having turned in the bar stool to face the dance floor, and Tom did the same.

“Seems odd… so many women wearing the same thing. Is there some special event tonight?” There were at least a dozen women or more wearing fitted black pants, silver sleeveless tops of various types, some glittery or sequined, some midriff-baring, some of an athletic style, black Vans or Converse-style trainers, and black fedoras. All had their hair down and straightened, though of varied lengths. “She looks quite similar to Ricki, don’t you think?” Tom asked, gesturing to one in the front near the center of the group in a sequined, midriff-baring top, showing off a rhinestone naval piercing and a Celtic-style tattoo across her lower back when she turned, speaking to another woman.

“Hm… She does. How strange…”

Another song came on, Latin-styled, but a dance club song Tom had heard before, and the women quickly organized into lines of five across, taking up the entire dance floor as more gathered until there were at least thirty of them. By her moves, despite the inadequate lighting, Tom was positive the woman in the front to the left of the center woman was definitely Ricki. Although the entire group were synchronized in their dancing, he was positive he’d recognize the sway of those curvy hips anywhere.

“How on earth did you…” Words failed as the beat segued from powerful bass-driven to a rhythm that brought the dancers to a brief belly-dancing-inspired series of moves before transitioning again. His eyes were transfixed on every move Ricki made. “Bloody hell,” he breathed, but Chris caught it and laughed.

“I overheard her on the phone confirming some last minute details with someone and was curious what she was up to that involved dancing, specifically ‘shaking it like a sexy bitch’ as she said on the phone. It sounded promising.” With a grin, Chris raised his glass, and sighing in rather pleased resignation, Tom did the same. “Cheers, mate.”

Once the song was over, the woman in the center of the front line introduced herself as the lead instructor of a local fitness center’s Club Vibe classes and invited anyone interested to join them on Monday and Wednesday evenings at seven and Saturday mornings at ten for an hour-long cardio workout with a dance club atmosphere. After that, the group broke up, most of them leaving, a few gathering together in smaller clusters and ordering drinks, but much to Tom’s surprise, and a little to his horror, Ricki headed directly toward them at the bar, a stern expression on her face. He was fully prepared to throw Chris under the bus for their presence. After all, it was completely his fault.

“Are you two following me now? Don’t you have anything better to do?” she questioned in a tone Tom couldn’t decipher as serious or not.

“I heard there might be some appealing entertainment here tonight and thought I’d bring Tom with me to check it out,” Chris replied smoothly.

“So you were listening in on my phone conversation this afternoon?”

He smiled as if it weren’t anything unusual. “It’s not like you were whispering or stepped outside for privacy. Anyone could hear you. I just happened to be standing there.”

Ricki looked them both over critically. “Well, since you’re here, do either of you actually enjoy Latin dancing, or are you just here for the entertainment and alcohol?”

“I enjoy all dancing,” Tom volunteered, figuring at this point, he really had nothing to lose. Chris’s shenanigans had done whatever damage they were going to do, so he might as well have fun while they were at the club, and if that meant dancing with Ricki, all the better. “My club dancing experience isn’t necessarily Latin, but I’m up for anything and learn fast… I like Shakira.” He smiled widely as if that were credentials of some sort, but to his glee, the song coming on was indeed Shakira, and he winked at Ricki. “Care to dance?”

She nodded, and he followed her to the dance floor a tad awkwardly, unsure where to put his hand, not wishing to be too forward as to place it on her bare lower back as they walked, settling on her upper back instead. “Tom, if you don’t want to touch me, this kind of dancing isn’t going to work very well,” Ricki commented, their first few steps a bit timid, mostly on Tom’s behalf, only their hands touching. “I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, but if you’re not interested then let’s just stop this now. I promise not to be offended.”

Swiftly, Tom pulled her closer, slipping one hand down to her hip, thumb grazing bare skin in their new position. “Disinterest isn’t the problem,” he replied in the lowest voice possible over the noise of the club. “I didn’t wish to be overly forward.”

He spun her and pulled her back to him, hand coming into contact with completely bare skin as they were face-to-face again, and she grinned like a Cheshire cat. “I’m not fragile or easily offended, so if you do have any actual interest, you best get over that. Dancing is one thing. Dancing around each other is another.”

With a responding grin, Tom nodded in understanding and let the music become the guide to his every move, not second guessing in favor of due propriety, and Ricki followed his lead easily. Vodka and tonic forgotten at the bar, Chris barely given a second thought, Tom and Ricki remained on the dance floor straight through another three songs of various styles, the last one much slower, giving him time to focus on her every feature; the freckles across her nose and cheeks, long, dark lashes contrasting with her unusually light, Caribbean blue eyes, her full, naturally rosy lips, and a small jagged scar, grown silvery white with age, to the left of her chin.

As the song came to an end, Tom dared to run a fingertip across the mark of some past traumatic event. “What happened here?” he asked quietly. “I invaded a door’s personal space, and it objected.” Gesturing to the noticeable scar on his forehead, he explained lightheartedly.

Still, Ricki bristled at his question, looking away. “I had fun tonight, and I hope we do Friday, but let’s not make more of this than it is. In the end, you aren’t staying here, and I’m not following you off to London… My entire life story isn’t yours to know.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t…” But it was pointless to finish with Ricki making a hasty escape from the dance floor… and Tom. He chased after her to see her wave a half-hearted goodbye to Chris and head straight for the door. Shaking his head grimly at his friend, he followed her out, catching up before she reached the parking lot. “Would you stop this? I feel like I’m forever chasing you, barely gaining a grasp only to lose it again, and it’s only a few days… Am I honestly so terrible, Ricki? Because if you aren’t interested, just tell me. Don’t let me make a fool of myself, please.”

She spun on him in a fury. “What do you want from me?”

Stepping back, his mouth fell open, more than a minute passing as he considered her question. “I don’t know. I’ve not done this before… A friend, someone to spend time with, to take to dinner… a bit of casual dating, I suppose… Nothing serious, simply someone to have fun with, to enjoy one another’s company while I’m here… What do you think I want?”

“I just don’t want to get used,” she answered without actually answering.

Taking a chance, Tom moved closer, daring to reach out and caress her cheek. “I promise not to cross any boundaries you set… May I at least walk you to your car tonight?”

“Sure.” Her voice was softer, tone lacking any bite to it.

She led the way to a white Nissan Altima parked toward the back in a poorly lit area, Tom’s hand low on her back the whole way, and he had to wonder if her skin felt nearly as heated by his touch as his hand felt to touch her. When they reached her car, she didn’t step away from him as she had before whenever they were so close. Instead, she turned toward him in a slow semi-spin so his hand remained in place, and she was ensconced within the hold of his arm. He could feel her breath hot on his neck at the open collar of his shirt, no more distance between them than there had been much of the time on the dance floor.

“Kiss me,” said Ricki, quietly, yet bluntly.

“What?” His response was a low whisper, unsure if he’d actually heard her correctly or merely heard what he wanted.

“I said to kiss me… We’re both anxious about Friday, and it’s causing too much tension at work. Get this part out of the way, the always nerve-wracking first kiss, then the rest should be easier, less to make us go crazy beforehand when we have things to get done.” She was very matter-of-fact in her explanation, but it didn’t change the physical hints telling Tom this wasn’t as business-like as she tried to make it sound.

Slowly, Tom placed his free hand behind her neck, running his fingers into her hair as he leaned down, meeting her lips with a deliberate softness, wanting to savor their ripe sensuality. Parting her lips, opening herself to him, Tom’s hand pressed firmly against her back, nudging her nearer, and at her compliance, he deepened their kiss, taking his time in exploring the feel and taste of her, the delight of Ricki in his arms, her skin warm under his hands, her hair soft around his fingers.

“You still out here, mate?” Chris’s voice carried across the parking lot from the club’s entrance.

Tom ignored him. He wasn’t feeling the least bit nervous with Ricki at the moment and didn’t want that to change.

“Tom?” For someone so desperate to get him hooked up with Ricki, Chris had terrible timing.

Ricki pulled back, much to Tom’s disappointment. “I think you’re being paged. You should probably go.” She reached up on her toes and kissed him once more, quickly, more platonically. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He watched her get in the car and drive away, deciding he would literally throw Chris under the first Atlanta metro bus that came by and apologize to Elsa later, though he suspected she would understand once he explained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like to know what songs writers have in mind when writing chapters like this, the Club Vibe group danced to "Baila Como Yo" by District 78, Tom and Ricki's first dance was to Shakira's "Rabiosa feat. Pitbull"


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You get another chapter on this story since it has so many less chapters than my other fics. I thought I'd be generous and write a little more on it. :)

Thursday’s filming schedule ended up so hectic that Tom only saw Ricki in passing twice, no more than a handful of words exchanged between them, none of those giving any indication her general disposition toward him had changed significantly after their kiss. He tried to write it off as a busy day on set for them both, minds on work, not play, and avoided dwelling on it that night.

However, Ricki seemed to purposefully remain too engaged in work-related tasks to speak with him much of Friday.

“I’m sure she’s not backing out, but if you’re so worried about it, go talk to her. You’ve got almost an hour free… Or would you rather I talk to her when I’m free next? I can handle it for you.” Chris grinned widely, earning a stern glare.

“That’s quite alright. I think I’ll manage.” In truth, he wasn’t so sure how he’d manage if she didn’t wish to speak with him or had changed her mind about their date that night, but he’d be damned if Chris would be more involved with his prospective dating partner than he was. “You know where to find me,” he mumbled, walking off toward the food service area.

“Mhmm… As close to Ricki as she’ll let you get.” Tom had already left the vicinity, and Chris knew he didn’t hear, but laughed anyway.

Tom paused outside the food truck, hearing a phone ring, not wanting to disturb a business call, but wasn’t prepared for what he overheard.

“Hello. Erica Flynn speaking.” Ricki’s tone had a sharp edge to it with which Tom had personal familiarity. “Oh, I think I’ll be however I like. What the hell are you doing calling me?” In the pause, he’d swear she kicked something. Whomever called, she most definitely did not appreciate it. “I don’t give a flying rat’s ass if you’re in Atlanta right now. In fact, I don’t care where you are _ever_ … No… No, I am not! … It was all a mistake, a huge mistake, so just leave me alone… Too bad. I’m not working over there this time. Guess you’ll have to find yourself some other set slut to keep your dick warm. Who else was there? Kayla in makeup or Amber in lighting? Oh, that’s right. _Both_ … Don’t fucking call me again.”

He jumped when something hit the doorframe and heard her cursing as it shot from the door out of the truck, landing on the concrete and skittered several yards to a stop, Ricki running out of the truck after it. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Dammit,” she exclaimed, picking up the remnants of her mobile phone. When she spun around to return to the truck, she saw Tom and balled her hands into fists, expression closing off to him once again. “First Chris, now you listening in on my phone conversations?”

His mouth went dry as he sought a reasonable explanation. “I was simply coming to see you. The phone rang, and I thought it would be catering business. I just didn’t want to interrupt your work… Honest, Ricki, I had no idea…” Tom had no idea how to put into words what he’d so inadvertently overheard. “I feel terrible, not only for listening but for what I gather happened to you. He must be a right cad to treat you so, darling.”

“ _Darling_?” She took three steps toward him, a wild look in her eyes like a cornered animal. “You find out I was fucking an actor on a set I worked before, and _now_ I’m your darling? Is that how it works? Turn up the British charm when the odds start looking better?”

Ricki started to dart off to the truck door, but Tom grasped her arm too firmly to get far. She dropped her busted phone and slapped him so hard across the face his eyes watered, and his left ear rang. He didn’t let go despite her resistance.

“Maybe I deserve that, and I apologize for grabbing you, but I’m not letting go until you hear me out.” Rubbing his cheek, Tom shook his head, hoping to relieve the ringing in his ear, reminding himself to either not make her mad enough to do that again or to duck quickly if he made such a mistake. “First of all, I refer to many women as ‘darling’ out of habit. If I were insinuating something more intimate, it’d more likely be ‘sweetheart’ or ‘love’ rather than just ‘darling,’ though that’s still an applicable pet name. Secondly, you asked me to kiss you two days ago, which leads to two points. One, you gave the impression you were interested in me; however, I’ve since decided it’s impossible to ever know what you’re thinking… But two, after kissing you that way, don’t you think I would have pressed for more between now and then if I were anything like the fellow on the phone?”

Tom finally breathed, heart racing, amazed he conveyed his thoughts in a more orderly manner than he had anytime previously with her, attributing it to the adrenaline rush of anger from what he’d overheard combined with that of her physical assault.

He nearly lost his balance when she suddenly stopped pulling away; however, he caught himself… and caught her smirking at him. “Oh, you find that amusing? If I’d gone down, I’d have taken you with me.”

Arching an eyebrow, Ricki’s smirk remained. “And here I was beginning to believe the whole story about you not being like that… Do you always prefer the woman on top, or is that only when it’s convenient?”

Wide-eyed and drop jawed, he stuttered for a response. “I was not… That’s not what…” Finally, Tom let go of her arm, jaw tight, glaring. “Fine. If that’s how you want to judge me then so be it. Clearly, I can’t change your mind. You won’t give me a chance. You don’t play fair. You jump to conclusions and make assumptions about me based on someone else… I’m not him.” Half turning away, his voice dropped. “I’m really not.” Shaking his head, he walked back towards the building’s door.

Ricki covered her face with her hands, taking a few deep breaths then dropped her hands to her sides, flexing her fingers anxiously. “Tom, wait.” He stopped but didn’t turn. “I don’t really think you’re like that… and I want to trust that I can believe that’s true… It’s just that I’ve already been hurt, hurt bad, and this feels so much like opening the door to a hell of a lot more hurt, a door I keep opening and closing on you because you seem so sweet and worth it, but I don’t want to be an idiot…” Tom turned, meeting her eyes, and her voice wavered. “I… I’m sorry, Tom… and if you can forgive me, I can give you a chance. I can.”

He considered possibly he was being an idiot for continuing this back and forth with her, but something about Ricki intrigued him. Maybe it was as simple as the way she didn’t sway in his favor so easily… or maybe her eyes that struck him speechless… or that he wanted to know more about her, and curiosity had the best of him. For whatever reason he couldn’t quite name, he closed the distance between them in five quick strides, cupping her cheek, and kissing her softly, forgiving her too easily. But Tom knew his greatest weaknesses; forgiving and falling too easily. He wouldn’t tell her he was likely in far more danger of hurt in the end than someone as emotionally defensive as Ricki would be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I like visuals, I created images for the ships in each of my fics yesterday. Comments and feedback on both the chapter and the image are appreciated. Thanks for reading! <3 -Mel


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this latest chapter update! Comments and feedback are appreciated! :-)
> 
> Thanks for reading and following along! <3

“Oh, my god, Tom, I thought that girl was gonna cry when you took a selfie with her… Do they always freak out like that?”

Tom shrugged, walking a few more steps down the sidewalk before wrapping an arm around Ricki’s waist, stretching his other arm out in front of them, and snapping a picture with his phone as they both laughed. “Well, there’s your answer… Not every girl I take a selfie with freaks out, obviously.”

“You’re such a dork.” She teasingly elbowed him in the ribs, but didn’t pull away or push him off, Tom’s arm remaining around her, hand at her waist as they walked. “I hope you didn’t feel too touristy taking photos in the restaurant, but I really loved those chandeliers… and you know, I need a new phone.”

“Hopefully your next one manages to avoid collisions with door jambs and parking lots,” he remarked in amusement.

Rolling her eyes, Ricki tensed, and Tom held her a bit closer, wanting to be a reassurance. “Hopefully it manages not to receive calls from my last big mistake.”

“If he’s your last big mistake, does that make me your current big mistake?” It was the unspoken question he’d had all night. _You’re out with me now, but will you regret this tomorrow or next week or hate me the moment I’m gone?_

“God, I really hope not, Tom. I’ve stayed mistake-free for over two years, and would like to keep that streak going.” They entered the parking garage, and she stopped when they reached his rental car, turning to face him. “Can’t this just be… _good_?”

“ _Good_?” He didn’t know if he could simply promise _good_ , not after the way conversation flowed so easily at dinner, how comfortable they seemed with one another. _Good friends?_ If that’s all she wanted, he’d surpassed that place a few hours ago and would find it difficult to go back.

“Yeah. Can’t we just have fun, be happy, and not hurt each other, everything just be good between us before you have to leave?” She ran her hands over the broad expanse of his chest, admiring the feel of hard muscle under the soft blue button down he wore, and he snaked his arms around her waist.

“Sure…” _When the time comes, if it doesn’t hurt you to watch me leave, I won’t let you see how difficult it will be for me to do so._ “What do you want to do now? It’s not too terribly late.” _And I’m not ready to say good night._

“Well, after spending the evening with an Englishman, I have the desire to watch a James Bond film, and since I have Jack and Coke and Skyfall on DVD back at my place, I say we go chill on my couch. We’re not likely to run into more of your fans there.” Her tone held no insinuated sexual propositions or underlying mischief, and Tom couldn’t decide if he was disappointed at that or thankful not to be plunged deeper toward his own demise so soon.

“No, I’d daresay not. I certainly have no fans there,” he tried joking, rather coming off slightly bitter after all that had happened over the past few days.

However, Ricki was rather taken aback by his assumption. “Hey, that was rude. I happen to have liked you as Sir Thomas Sharpe and Jonathan Pine very much.”

“But you don’t like me as me very much.” Tom knew he was being a bit of an ass after their very lovely dinner together, but it ate at him, and he needed to know.

“Now you’re just putting words in my mouth, Hiddleston. Maybe I do like you very much.” She stood still as a statue, hands on his chest, glaring at him. “Do you think I’d be here if I didn’t?”

“I’m not sure what to think, Ricki, but I want to be. I want to know where I stand with you because the ground seems to constantly shift out from under me, and I need to hear it from you.” He nervously licked his lips, eyeing her carefully. “To be honest, I do like you. I like you a lot more than as good friends, and I can’t take this back and forth, not because of my ego but because some of us actors aren’t heartless bastards out to use you. Some of us actually do have hearts, feel pain, and can’t simply jump from one woman’s bed to another.”

“Then if we do this…” Her breath caught at how intensely his eyes fixed on hers.

Tom swallowed, nerves gaining a hold on him. “Then we do this at least as long as I’m here.” He mentally kicked himself for letting the ‘at least’ slip. “And we do so exclusively. I don’t abide by the notion of non-monogamous relationships, regardless of the circumstances of said relationship.” On this point, Tom was so stern, Ricki grinned, and a small snicker slipped out. “You disagree or simply find that funny?” He wasn’t sure if he felt more put out or embarrassed by the apparent amusement she found in his seemingly outdated, traditional notions of relationships.

She shook her head adamantly, causing her to laugh a little harder, only speaking when she’d pulled herself together. “No. No. Not at all. It’s just… I was going to say I needed a promise along those lines from you in order to take this any further… I wasn’t expecting you to be the one insisting on it, not that you hadn’t mentioned it sometime before, but I didn’t take you too seriously at the time.”

Frowning, Tom led her around the car, opening the passenger door. “Yes. Well, I was… Now shall we go see if whiskey pairs nearly as well with James Bond as martinis do?” Ricki slid into the seat with a grin, and he shut the door, definitely feeling shaken _and_ stirred by her.

Rick’s place was a two-story townhouse in a middle-class suburb north of Atlanta, outside the insanity of metro life but close enough to commute for work without too much difficulty. The half hour drive back from, Southern Art, the beautiful restaurant and bourbon bar where they’d had dinner, was spent mostly discussing various sights on the way as Ricki gave directions rather than Tom using the GPS he had when picking her up in the first place. He preferred to hear her voice over the electronic voice of Siri any day.

“It’s not much, but it’s home,” she remarked, inviting him inside. She’d been ready when he arrived for their date and met him at the door, not allowing him past the welcome mat. “Living room… obviously. Half-bath through that door. Dining area… in case you couldn’t tell… And here we have…” She paused dramatically.

“The kitchen,” Tom supplied.

“That was a difficult one, but you passed with flying colors.” Tour ended, Ricki pulled a bottle of Jack Daniel’s Tennessee whiskey and two shot glasses from one cabinet, two larger glasses from another cabinet, and a two-liter bottle of Coke from the fridge. “My bedroom, a guest bedroom, and two full bathrooms are upstairs, but you’re just getting the three-cent tour for now… Here… To get started.” With a smirk, she handed him a shot glass.

“Straight whiskey? That’s one hell of a starter.” No lightweight when drinking, Tom was still mindful of the bourbon and wine he’d already consumed during dinner, but didn’t want to put a halt on their fun too early. “Cheers.” Tipping his glass to Ricki first, he threw the shot back easily, not terribly surprised she did so as well. “However, if you intend on me driving back to my hotel, it may be best to pace ourselves.”

She said nothing at first, mixing drinks instead, adding ice to the large glasses and healthy portions of Jack before filling each one to the top with Coke. “Hm… Well, I’ve got a perfectly good couch and a guest room if driving’s out of the question, so I wouldn’t worry much about it.” Holding out one glass to him, she eyed him over the rim of hers. “Unless you don’t want to stay… or I shouldn’t trust you to stay.”

Tom picked up the Jack Daniel’s bottle, tilting it speculatively. “I certainly hope you have more liquor if I’m staying.

She grinned, a glint of mischief in her eyes, and Tom had a feeling staying would be interesting to say the least. “C’mon, let’s put in the movie.”

By the time the credits rolled, they’d finished off the two-liter of Coke using the remainder of Jack and what was left of a bottle of Captain Morgan. Tom and Ricki both laid on the floor, sprawled in opposite directions, heads next to one another, eye-to-eye, though upside down in their odd positioning, a half-empty tequila bottle nearby.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really been in love,” she announced in the whispered volume they’d been speaking for a while, having turned the movie down in favor of talking barely thirty minutes into it. “I’ve thought I was and said I was, but then I’d look back and know I wasn’t. Everything about it was wrong, and I didn’t feel heartbroken so much as I just felt hurt and pissed off.”

“To some degree, I think I always fall in love, so much so, I’m afraid I won’t know it when I _really_ do.” Tom ran a hand through his messy hair. “I love love and romance. I want a woman I can treat like a princess. I want to be someone’s Prince Charming and have a happily ever after.” Ricki giggled then laughed, rolling closer until her forehead hit his nose, and he put a hand on her cheek, pushing her far enough back that she wasn’t blurry when he looked at her. “Why is that so funny?”

“Because you’re in love with the idea of it… in love with fairy tales.” With a wry smile, she added, “I suppose you expect it’s all sunshine, rainbows, and prancing unicorns, or at least white horses for Prince Charming.”

“And you’re too cynical to believe in love at all, is that it?” he asked, all pretense of lightheartedness lost in the conversational turn.

“No, it’s not that. I just don’t believe it’s so easy or so perfect… definitely not instantaneous… Although, I swear I read somewhere that guys can fall in love, like _really_ in love with _the one_ in three dates or less, but most women take about twice as long to do the same.” Ricki turned to stare at the ceiling, sighing, and stretching her arms out. “I just think it’s complicated and not something that necessarily happens in a moment.”

“But it has to start somewhere.” Tom’s voice was soft and deep in her ear.

“I know.” She closed her eyes, trying not to think about how near Tom was, the way she could feel him looking at her.

When he stretched out his arms, reaching for her hands, she didn’t flinch or pull away, intertwining her fingers with his easily, and Tom closed his eyes as well, not saying another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious, I was listening to "Let's Be Still" by The Head and the Heart while writing this chapter. Great inspiration, especially for the ending.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback seem to have dwindled to near nothing on this story, so if there's a lack of interest here, I'll focus on my other fics for updates. Let me know where you guys stand if I have people following and reading this who are looking forward to updates. I'm trying to prioritize my fic writing for when I'm not working on my other writing.
> 
> If you are following and reading this story, thank you for taking the time to do so, and I hope you enjoy it! :-)

Tom woke up the next morning still on the floor but alone, a pillow under his head, a quilt covering him, and not a sound in the townhouse that told of anyone else’s presence. He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose unsure what he’d done that could have run Ricki out of her own home in order to escape him this time.

At a loss, he sat up and noticed a glass on the end table, a glass of ice water fresh enough the ice hadn’t yet melted. On it was a Post-It note with the words ‘Drink me’ written neatly. Beside the glass was a small glass dish with two pills in it boasting another note stating ‘Take me’ in the same neat script. Finally, there was a folded piece of paper with ‘Read me’ written on the outside behind which he spotted his phone, plugged into a charger he hadn’t thought to bring with him… its battery at one hundred percent.

He assumed the water and pills were for his hangover and did as the notes instructed, not realizing quite how thirsty he was until he’d drained the glass then picked up the note, climbing up on the couch to sit and read.

_Dear Tom,_

_By the time you read this, I’m probably already at Club Vibe class really making you look like a lazy drunken bum. I already cleaned up the mess from last night, baked banana nut muffins for breakfast, and tucked you in more comfortably since you didn’t look like you’d be waking up anytime soon._

_Take the Tylenol, and drink the water I left for you. It should make you feel better. If you feel up to it, the muffins are in the kitchen. Raid the fridge and cabinets for whatever else you might need. I set out a new toothbrush and toothpaste in a cup on the bathroom sink._

_Unfortunately, the front door locks with a deadbolt, so you need a key to lock it from the outside, leaving you stuck until I return around 11:30._

_Make yourself at home._

_-Ricki_

_P.S. You’re in luck my iPod uses the same Lightning charger as your phone._

Tom laughed at her teasing as he read and felt touched at her thoughtfulness, even if she did just simply leave him, which he’d never had happen with a woman before, she had at least taken measures to care for him beforehand… and to be fair, Ricki had told him about being an assistant instructor for the class while they talked over dinner, so he understood her sense of responsibility to attend regardless of whether he was there. Had he been awake, she likely would have given him the boot and gone. He felt some satisfaction in knowing she’d let him be, fully aware he’d still be there when she returned.

Just before eleven thirty, Tom heard the key in the lock as he sat at the dining table, eating one too many banana nut muffins and finishing reading the most recent issue of Women’s Health magazine. Slightly embarrassed he’d eaten yet another one, he quickly stuffed the last bite in his mouth and went to toss the muffin wrapper and napkin in the rubbish bin, carrying the magazine with him, reading as he walked.

“Women’s Health?” Ricki looked completely puzzled by Tom when he entered the living room while she took her shoes off by the front door. “Are you seriously reading my Women’s Health magazine?”

“I considered reading one of your books, but to be honest, I’ve read most of them already… then I found this on the kitchen counter.” He shrugged. “For the most part, fitness is fitness, so I don’t see how many of the articles aren’t just as applicable to my own health, but I do have a mum and two sisters whose health and well-being I worry about as well.

Ricki wasn’t about to tell him how absolutely adorable she found that admission on his part, hiding her smile behind the towel as she wiped her face, still sweaty from class. “Alrighty then… You have fun with that, and I’m gonna hop in for a quick shower… Be right back,” she called from halfway up the steps.

Tom cleaned up after himself, putting the pillow he’d woken up with on the couch, folding the quilt to drape over the back of it the way it had been the night before, putting everything in the kitchen back to order as it was when he’d awoken then relaxed on the couched with the magazine to await Ricki. His mind was somewhere between ideas for what they might do together if she were so inclined to spend the day with him and reading an article on the effects of age on women’s bone strength when his phone rang, startling him.

“ _Buying bread from a man in Brussels, He was six-foot-four and full of muscles. I said, "Do you speak-a my language?" He just smiled and gave me a Vegemite sandwich, And he said I come from a land down under, Where beer does flow and men chunder, Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder? You better run, you better take cover,_ ” his phone sang out, and Tom picked it up, looking at the photo of him and Chris they’d taken while filming the first Thor movie before answering.

“Yes?” Tom answered slowly with an air of absolute innocence.

“You didn’t come back last night. You did _not_ come back last night. _You_ did not. You. You _never_ sleep with a girl on the first date,” he stated confidently. “I almost started calling hospitals when you didn’t show up, thinking you’d been in an accident, but then I figured Luke would have heard about that… So where are you?”

“At Ricki’s. I stayed over.” Despite knowing Chris couldn’t see him, Tom couldn’t stop smirking, waiting for the reaction.

“You _never_ sleep with a girl on the first date.” Chris reiterated this as a statement of certain fact, set in stone, a universal truth Tom should not and could not alter.

“There’s a first time for everything, isn’t there? In any case, the sleeping was quite literal, nothing more, so my record as a gentleman on the first date is still in pristine condition such as I prefer it.” He heard the very audible sigh of obvious relief on the other end of the line. No matter how much Chris wanted him to date and teased him relentlessly at times, his friend didn’t want to change who he was at heart, a hopelessly old-fashioned romantic.

Chris recovered quickly, returning to teasing. “Does she snore?”

“I wouldn’t know. I fell asleep first, slept soundly, woke up last, and wouldn’t tell you even if I did.”

“It was worth a try. More fun if I’ve got something to razz her about.”

“You know, for someone so determined to…” The sight of Ricki coming down the stairs stunned Tom to silence. Freshly showered, her hair hung in damp, dark curls past her shoulders, framing her face, bare of all but a hint of makeup, brightening her eyes and tinting her lips pinker. She’d dressed for the warm Atlanta October Saturday weather in a halter-necked, blue floral sundress and casual sandals, showing her athletic tone and feminine curves. “I have to go,” Tom breathed into the phone, quickly hanging up and turning it off to prevent further intrusions on his time with her.

Ricki lingered on the bottom step, eyeing him cautiously. “I didn’t interrupt something, did I?”

“Oh, no, just Chris checking in on me.” Nervously, Tom rubbed his hands on his thighs before standing. “I worried him by not showing back up last night.”

“He knew you were on a date. I’d think he had a good idea where you intended to end up for the night, even if it didn’t quite play out as you’d hoped.”

Tom’s eyes never left hers as he slowly crossed from the couch to the stairs. “He knew I was on a first date. Believe me, Chris had every reason to be genuinely concerned when I didn’t return.”

Standing face-to-face with him, Ricki felt her cheeks burn under the intensity of Tom’s gaze. “You really don’t, do you… The games… Playing the field… Any of it.” She wasn’t sure if she was asking him or stating her own final conclusions about him, but he shook his head.

“No. You are not a plaything for my pleasure or anyone else’s… You are strong and intelligent and absolutely stunning.” He spoke with a soft and graceful confidence, but what stood out to her was the way his eyes remained on hers rather than traveling lecherously over her body when saying she was stunning.

She gave a small smile and laughed quietly. “I haven’t really done anything to my hair and barely put on makeup, Tom. I looked a lot better last night.”

Tom shook his head in rather firm refusal. “No. As gorgeous as you looked last night, this way, I can see how _truly_ beautiful you are, and _this_ is what _I_ like better.”

Ricki leaned closer, nearly nose-to-nose with Tom as she still stood on the stairs. “If we’re talking what we like better then I should say _I_ like _this_ better… when you don’t think about what you’re saying and just say what you feel, damn the consequences.”

With a sharp breath, Tom sucked in his lower lip and stared at her for a moment. “I’m afraid of falling in love with you,” he finally admitted in a low voice.

Grimacing, Ricki replied, “Yeah, well that makes two of us.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait since the last update, but I've had a lot going on and have been sick. Hopefully this generally sweet and fluffy chapter will help ease your suffering. ;-)
> 
> Thanks for bearing with me and having patience, reading, and following this story. Your comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. I hope there are still readers out there after my disappearance. Please let me know you're alive and still reading. :D

After much discussion on how to spend the day, Ricki insisted they go to the Georgia Aquarium. Despite having been to Atlanta to film before, Tom hadn’t taken time out for visiting local attractions, as often happened when he traveled to locations for work purposes. They’d gone to his hotel room so he could change into jeans and a casual blue button down and arrange for them to be shadowed by one of the personal security guards available to the cast.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” she asked as they reached the penguin exhibit.

Tom finished snapping a picture, grinning at how adorable the animals were. “What’s that?”

Glancing back at their rather formidable shadow for the day, Jordan, who simply nodded and returned to pretending he was thoroughly engaged in the aquarium exhibits, Ricki whispered, “Someone following you around like this? It’s a bit unnerving to be honest.”

With an apologetic smile, Tom took her hand in his. “I can’t say I enjoy it much, having an audience to exactly how my date goes, good or bad… But should public recognition turn from polite fan interaction to something uncomfortable or dangerous for us, we’ll both be thankful for Jordan’s presence.”

Ricki had slunk back into the shadows with Jordan the handful of times Tom had been approached in the aquarium, though he’d told her there was no need to do so. “Yeah. I suppose we would.” A single fan reacting in near hysterics as she’d seen a few of them was one thing, but get even a small group of a half dozen like that at the same time… it didn’t take any imagination to know how quickly she’d want to be out of there.

“Try not to think about it, and let’s enjoy what’s left of the aquarium… It’s nearly time to visit the gift shop.” Tom beamed like a child anticipating a trip to a toy store and tugged Ricki over for a better view of the penguins. “Can you guess my favorite thing about penguins?”

Watching them for a moment, she shrugged. “Um… They’re incredibly cute?”

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head with a laugh. “No.”

“Well, you’re wrong, because they are,” she retorted rather impertinently, and Tom had the urge to kiss her sassy little mouth.

Still holding Ricki’s hand, he moved closer and leaned in, nearly giving into the urge, instead, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’m not arguing that point, but it’s not what I like best about them.”

She shivered and tried to ignore the effect of Tom’s low voice so close, his breath on her neck disturbing her composure. “Alright then, I have no idea.” Her voice was a bit shaky, and she hoped he didn’t notice, but the smirk on his face said otherwise.

Tom gained confidence seeing he was beginning to get to her the same way she got to him, leveling the playing field beyond simply admitting they both had fears of what may happen. She could say she feared falling for him, but he’d seen no signs Ricki was at any risk of such a thing, not the way Tom was for her.

“There are certain species of penguins which are completely monogamous. They mate for life…” Tom turned from watching the penguins in the exhibit as he spoke to look at Ricki, finding her eyes already on him. “I find that quite admirable, particularly considering such a large percentage of our species can’t manage to do that.”

“I guess it is pretty amazing then. Good for them.”

“Hm, yes… Good for them.” A half-smile on his lips, Tom took her other hand, holding her hands tightly in his, and gazed down at her intently. “I choose to be a penguin in my life, Ricki, so please stop lumping me in and judging me alongside the flighty fellows you’ve known before we met.”

Ricki began giggling, letting her forehead fall against Tom’s chest in an effort to stay relatively quiet and not cause a scene. “Okay, Happy Feet, let’s hit the gift shop and get out of here,” she mumbled into his chest, and he wrapped an arm around her, leading her toward their destination as she intermittently giggled, and he tried to keep a straight face with little luck.

Once in the car, Tom produced a small gift shop bag from his jacket pocket. “I got something for you.”

“Tom, I told you not to do that,” she half-heartedly argued, eyeing the bag with anticipation.

He shrugged. “I don’t necessarily listen very well, and besides, it’s not just for you. It’s for both of us.”

Curiosity getting the best of her, Ricki took the offered bag and poured its contents into her hand. She admired the two plastic penguin keychains, one bearing the name ‘Erica,’ the other ‘Thomas’ and smiled. “Awww. They’re so cute… One for each of us.”

Grinning, Tom snapped a picture of her enjoying the gift before she stuck her tongue out at him for capturing her with his phone’s camera yet again. “Now, the question is: do you want the one with your name or the one with mine?” he asked in complete seriousness.

She stopped smiling and studied the keychains with a scrutinizing intensity before dropping them both back in the bag. “I don’t know. Why don’t we let fate decide? We each pick one from the bag. No peeking until we both have ours then we see what we end up with.”

“Okay.” It wasn’t the straight-forward answer he’d hoped for, but perhaps her willingness to leave the matter to fate was telling in its own way. He liked to think so.

They each took a keychain from the bag, holding them in their closed hands until Ricki announced, “Now.” At that, Tom opened his hand and smiled down at the small plastic penguin with the name ‘Erica’ across it’s white belly. Peeking across at Ricki, he saw her running a finger across his name on the keychain in her hand, a small smile spreading warmly on her face.

“Are you ready?” Tom asked softly.

“I’m honestly not sure.”

She hadn’t looked up, but he nodded anyway. “I don’t know if anyone’s ever sure they’re ready to risk their heart, but we can take this one step at a time… from here to dinner for now. Alright?”

“Alright. We can do that.”

Tom prepared to back out of their parking spot when Ricki put her hand over his before he could shift into reverse, and he turned to find her eyes meet his intensely, stealing his breath. Without a word, he slipped a hand into her hair and leant in to press his lips to hers, thrilled by the exuberance with which she met his advance, running her fingers through his short hair, pulling him closer. It was the first kiss they’d shared since their fight on set, spending their first date talking rather than getting physical, and he didn’t want to rush Ricki into anything, but this felt like more. Perhaps it was the hopeless romantic in Tom stirring once again, but he wanted and felt ready for more.


End file.
